If driving were a metaphor for the rancor which seems to characterize the tenor of American politics these days, it is playing out on the Garden State Parkway in New Jersey. Any remnant of human decency that real, face-to-face interaction demands is lost once you're behind the wheel of a car. And on this particular stretch of … Continue reading Garden State Highway: Beauty in Unexpected Places
Family
Howdy, 2016. I already miss you, 2015.
New Year's Eve 2015, a street corner in Saratoga Springs, NY. My boy Bentley and his friend Billy have been with us for a week, headed back to their respective homes in Tennessee at an obscene hour tomorrow morning. We've had a great time together. I am always amazed how you can blink and it's gone: … Continue reading Howdy, 2016. I already miss you, 2015.
(Dis)Comfort and Joy
Handsome Chef Boyfriend and I spent yesterday Christmas shopping over in Saratoga Springs. We had fun, observed people, marveled at humanity, privately assessed it as we are wont to do for amusement. We ate lunch and dinner out, rare for us, and arrived home content if a little weary, with a bargain Christmas tree tied to the … Continue reading (Dis)Comfort and Joy
Traditions: Peering Through the Lens of Nostalgia
There are a couple of late November moments that fill me with so much nostalgia and sentimentality I get chills. One is hearing the strains of Tchaikovsky's Miniature Overture to The Nutcracker for the first time in the long Nut season. Don't get me wrong: I am not a fan of the ballet, nor the score, with the … Continue reading Traditions: Peering Through the Lens of Nostalgia
Thanksgiving Eve: Grumpy Norwegian Chefs
'Twas the Night Before Thanksgiving and Handsome Chef Boyfriend decided he would make homemade lefse, because what else is there to do before the biggest culinary day of the calendar year after you have already spent hours working on your feet as a pastry chef? It is pronounced lɛfsə (good luck with that, try leff-sa instead) … Continue reading Thanksgiving Eve: Grumpy Norwegian Chefs
Race Relations
Sometimes you get rapped on the knuckles by an ageing matriarch; it is possible you deserved it. That is Kathryn "Katie" Blackwell, holding my brother Tom. The photo was made some time in 1969 or '70 when he was still a newbie; my mom handed it to me a couple months ago when I saw … Continue reading Race Relations
Homecoming, Part the Fourth
I don't know what it is about ballet schools and railroads, but just about every single school where I've studied or taught has been on top of them; you learn to deal with the teeth-rattling thunder of the enormous diesel engines barreling down the tracks. It's part and parcel of operating in a low rent … Continue reading Homecoming, Part the Fourth
Homecoming, Part the Third
Before we pulled out of Chattanooga on a hazy Tuesday afternoon, my dad reported he'd seen a burgeoning praying mantis and stick bug population this summer. And evidently my son is a praying mantis whisperer. I could not capture the kind of image he did, a challenge I threw his way. And what it lacks … Continue reading Homecoming, Part the Third
Homecoming, Part the Second
It is beyond me how 1000 miles disappear so quickly in the rear view mirror, or how four days dissolve in what feels like a half hour. It's what has transpired in the intervening hours since 2:30 Saturday morning when Handsome Chef Boyfriend and I began our long drive south to see family and friends, … Continue reading Homecoming, Part the Second
July 27th Lake George Reunion
Sometimes I really am a princess. I never know exactly how to behave at big, multi-generational family gatherings because they weren't part of my own childhood. It's kind of like that feeling you get when you're in somebody else's kitchen—you want to be helpful, but it's not your kitchen or your stuff and you don't … Continue reading July 27th Lake George Reunion
Sycamore Stories 